by Meg Easton
She sat down on a bench to wait, and had to repeatedly stop her fingers from inching toward her cell phone, where the internet was waiting, ready to give her answers. But no—she respected Aaron and could wait to hear them from him.
As long as he hurried.
Her cell phone was so close, though. No, Macie, she told herself. You can wait.
When he came back into the pool room, he was dressed in slacks and a button down shirt. She grabbed the coats and he led her out of the pool, through the gyms, and into the atrium, an octagonal room with tall windows on six sides. They sat on one of the couches that she’d curled up on to study plenty of times back in high school.
“Okay,” Aaron said, “tell me what you already know.”
“I know that you were young. Now that I’m doing the math, nineteen.” He nodded, so she continued. “And you were supposed to swim in a lot of different races.”
“Five.”
“And you were a gold hopeful in several of them.”
“Three.”
“And you won gold in some...”
“Two gold, one bronze.”
“But then something happened, and you didn’t compete in your last event. I can’t remember what.”
“My parents happened. I didn’t know it, but apparently they’d been having disagreements for years over the money all the coaching and traveling to national meets cost, versus the endorsement deals I’d eventually get by being an Olympian, over which one of them was doing it so they could have a trophy family and the bragging rights that came with it, and which one was doing it with my best interests in mind and just wanted to set me up for a successful future. And since their private marriage had ‘ended’ years ago, which one of them was flaunting extramarital affairs in the other’s face the most.”
“Oh, Aaron.”
“My parent’s public marriage had been pretty close to perfect, even from my point of view. I got my first endorsement offer between races, and it blew the lid off an argument that had been brewing between my parents for years. They had hid every fight they’d ever had from me and my sister Aliza and the rest of the world. That final explosion, though, happened right in front of me. And Aliza. And everyone else in the press room. Moments before my final race.”
He was quiet for a few moments, his fingers flipping the zipper pull from her coat that was lying on his leg back and forth, back and forth.
“I was at the Olympics, I’d had three medals hung around my neck, and had received my first endorsement offer. I was nineteen and at the highest of highs. But at that moment I watched my family implode, and every truth I’d ever known about them was shattered. It...It was a long way to fall.”
“I am so sorry, Aaron.” Macie didn’t know how to even comfort someone who had gone through something like that. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him in a tight hug.
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s not pleasant to talk about or relive, but it was a long time ago.”
“How did you manage to get past that?”
He laughed a humorless laugh. “Well, I started by walking out of the Olympics right then and vowing never to return. Then I decided to move on to drinking. That seemed like the customary response to a problem of that magnitude. So I went to a bar in the Olympic Village with some teammates and had my first drink. Got drunk, even. Then I went back to my room and puked and was absolutely miserable.” He laughed for real this time. “I had spent my life fueling my body with the healthiest of foods that would make me capable of being an elite athlete, and drinking felt like dumping poison on what I’d worked so hard for. So the night of my first drink was also the night of my last drink.”
He shrugged. “So drinking was out. When I got back home, I decided the best course of action would be to get engaged, so I got right on that.”
“Wait, what? Were you seriously engaged?”
Aaron nodded.
“Well that’s a...less conventional way of dealing with grief. I guess it’s true when they say that everyone deals with it differently.”
“You could say that.” Aaron’s eyes looked up, thoughtful. “I think I was looking for a way to prove that my parents’ marriage was just a terrible, horrible fluke. That marriage wasn’t really like that. That real love was possible. That a marriage like I had thought my parents had was possible.”
“And?”
“Well, finding candidates wasn’t really a problem. It’s not hard to get dates when you have a couple of gold medals tucked away in a drawer.” He looked down where his hand rested on the seat not far from hers. “It sounds like that kind of situation would be ideal. A real ego booster. But in reality, it just means that you have no idea who likes you for who you are, and who likes you for what you just did and the notoriety it brings. Especially because the press felt the need to get involved in all of it. I actually had enjoyed the press back when they were covering my swimming times and my meets. I liked them less when all they could focus on was my parents’ divorce and who I dated.
“But then I met Sabrina. She seemed perfect, and I was convinced that she actually liked me for me. I proposed, she said yes, and we started planning a wedding. We were both twenty.”
Somehow in the middle of getting to know Aaron better and him meeting her family and that kiss in the kitchen, she’d managed to forget that he was against the one thing that mattered to her the most. “I’m guessing she didn’t restore your faith in marriage.” What was she thinking, falling for someone like Aaron, when she’d known he never wanted to get married?
Aaron shook his head. “I found out four months into our engagement that she hadn’t broken up with her previous boyfriend. They were still very much together.”
“No.”
“Yep. So drinking had been a failed way to cope, which I hear is pretty true for everyone. And jumping into an engagement was also a failed coping mechanism. After floundering for a bit, I realized that I had three loves: leading, swimming, and kids. So I came up with the brilliant plan of becoming a teacher, so I could teach teens how to be stellar people and to set goals and to work hard to achieve them and to treat others with respect. It hasn’t failed me yet.”
She put a hand on his shoulder. “Those kids are lucky to have you.”
He squeezed her hand that was on his shoulder and met her eyes. “Thank you for showing me Saturday night that families can be different from the one I’ve experienced. It restored some of my faith in humanity.”
She gave him a smile filled with so many conflicting emotions, not the least of which was the dichotomy between the zing that his hand on hers sent through her body and the fact that he’d said her family had restored his faith in humanity, not his faith in families. Or in marriage.
He sat up straight and shifted so he was facing her. “Now, if I haven’t scared you off too badly with that story, I was planning to stop by your house tonight to ask a favor.”
Macie raised an eyebrow.
“I have a class of overachievers—my AP History class. It’s a smaller class of just eleven kids. They’re involved in everything—taking every Advanced Placement and Honors and Concurrent Enrollment class offered. They are in every extracurricular, after school offering imaginable—several clubs each, with most of them in club leadership, sports, National Honor Society, volunteering for charity work and other service opportunities, and some of them even manage to squeeze in after school jobs. Anyway, the end of the semester is this Friday, the last day before Christmas break, and as you can imagine, these kids are out of their mind stressed with end of semester projects and making sure they maintain their four point oh GPAs.”
“Several of my students have mentioned how much dog therapy has helped them.” He grinned in a way that told Macie that this was his puppy dog pleading face. “Do you think you could bring yours to my class with these kids tomorrow during fourth period?”
Macie smiled. She didn’t know how to help with the betrayal he felt from his parents and his ex-f
iancee, but this she could do.
Chapter Fourteen
When Macie texted to say that she was almost at the school, Aaron tossed the remains of his lunch in the faculty room garbage can and hurried outside to meet her in the parking lot. It hadn’t snowed for a couple of days, so even though the snow was deep on the lawn and in big mounds at the ends of the parking lot, the parking lot and sidewalks were cleared and dry.
“Good afternoon, my mysterious goddess,” he said as he opened her door for her.
“Why thank you, my dashing man.” She stepped out of the car and placed a hand on his cheek. It was only for a moment, and such a small gesture, but it still sent warmth coursing through him right in the middle of the Colorado cold.
He lifted out the carrier with the three smaller dogs, and grabbed the cat one with his other hand, while Macie led the two bigger dogs on leashes inside the school.
She glanced over at him. “How do you feel about going to my work Christmas party this Friday?”
“Work party? Like with just you and Emily?”
Macie laughed. “No, actually, it’s with all of the Main Street Business Alliance members. Dates aren’t required, but I thought it might be fun.”
“I would love to.” They paused outside the windows of front office, and Lisa looked up, saw that Macie was with him, and gave him a thumbs up.
The hallways were filled with students chatting with friends at the end of lunch, and as they walked, they were met with a chorus of Awww’s and “Look! Puppies!” People swarmed to them, asking if they could pet the dogs.
“I am so sorry,” Aaron said. “I didn’t even consider this.”
“No problem. I don’t think it would be possible for Reese and Lola to get too much attention. The littler dogs and Sam, though—”
Aaron looked at the animals in the carriers. The dogs were yipping and jumping and were definitely getting a little overly excited, and Sam was scratching away at the floor of the carrier. “Make way, coming through,” he called out in his Listen to the teacher voice. And they did. They still lined the halls and bent down to wave at the dogs as they passed, but they left the middle open, so Aaron led Macie up the stairs and to his classroom like they were in a parade.
Once they were in his room and he’d set the carrier down, he stepped up close to Macie. Close enough to kiss her, actually. But instead he breathed, “Thanks for coming.”
She smiled nervously and then glanced at the door. “Should we be doing this with an audience?”
Lola nosed her way right in between the two of them, forcing the space between them to be wide enough to fit a large golden doodle. Aaron chuckled. “It seems Lola has an opinion about that too. And she’s probably right.” He picked up the dog carrier and took it back in to his office. He didn’t want to let them out until the students entered the room and he could close the door.
Macie crouched down to take the leash off Reese’s collar, so Aaron crouched down and did the same with Lola. “So,” she said as she laid the leash on the table that held his little classroom Christmas tree, “how are you?”
“Good. The end of the term is Friday, so I’ve been preparing the students for their tests tomorrow and grading their end of semester projects.”
Macie nodded and leaned in to take a closer look at the Christmas tree.
“How about you?” he asked. “How are things going with your business?”
“Good. It’s been picking up.”
How had things become so awkward between them? It was like the magic of Saturday night had worn off. He had felt so certain about where he stood with her when they had kissed, but he’d second guessed it a million times since then. He’d replayed their conversation from that night in his head dozens of times, and had realized that she hadn’t said that she felt the same way about him that he did about her. Actually, he wasn’t even sure he’d told her how he felt. So maybe the kiss was all just part of trying to convince her family.
He’d already had enough people in his life who had been fake about their relationships. Why had he thought that doing it on purpose was a good idea? He took a stride closer to her. “Listen—”
“Mr. H!” Cory said as he strolled into the room. “I heard you have a surprise for us!”
Morgan squealed and raced past Cory. “It’s true!”
The other students filed in close behind Cory and Morgan, dropping their backpacks and binders at their desks, and then gathering around Reese and Lola. Aaron leaned against his desk right next to where Macie leaned against it, close enough that their arms were touching.
“Reese and Lola are in heaven with all this attention,” Macie said.
“And look at the smiles on the students’ faces.” He watched Macie watching the students, and thought she looked like she was in heaven, too. She had really opened the perfect business for her.
The bell rang, and the students dutifully stopped petting the dogs and sat in their seats. It made him chuckle, but he should’ve seen it coming. So he went up in front of the class, and explained about how class today was going to be hanging out with the dogs.
“I don’t understand,” Alecia said. “There isn’t going to be a lesson?”
“Nope.”
“But the end of the semester is three days away,” Kyle said. “Shouldn’t we be studying?”
Aaron blew out a breath. The easy-going, fun class he’d had just a couple of weeks ago had grown into a ball of stress. “I purposely scheduled the next test for your class well after the break so you’d have one less thing to study for and worry about. Today, this is for you.”
Morgan raised her hand. “But—”
Aaron cut her off. “Alright, listen up class; I’ve got an assignment for you.” They all sat up a little straighter. “I need everyone to come up to the board and grab a marker.” Once they all stood at the board, a whiteboard marker poised and ready, he said, “I want you to think about what you’ve got going on today. Okay, now think about yesterday. And now Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Keeping those days in mind, on a scale of one to ten, I want you to write down how stressed out you feel.”
He watched as nine of eleven students wrote the number ten on the board. Some big, some small, some with a big circle or square around it, and a couple underlined. Allen was the only one who wrote a nine, and Bethany wrote 837.
He walked up to the board and studied the numbers, then turned to the students. “Stress can be good. It can propel you to action. But stress at this high of numbers is not only unhealthy, it’s unhelpful. Your assignment over the next...” he glanced at the clock, “hour and thirteen minutes is to work to get that number cut in half. I’ll have you report back in at the end of class. Now get to work!”
Macie went with him to his back office, and got Zeus, Piper, Cookie, and Sam out of their carriers and released them into the room. Then Macie pulled a couple of small balls out of her bag and tossed them to a couple of students. Piper lay on the floor as Morgan and LeeAnn petted her. Macie crouched down next to them and said, “I brought some Christmas ribbon. Do you guys want to fancy her up?” The two girls’ faces lit up, and she passed them a little container.
When she came back to lean against the desk with Aaron, she said, “If things keep picking up, I might be able to rescue another dog from the shelter to add to the Paws and Relax family.” Her face had been so excited when she was telling him, but then the smile fell a bit. “If I decide to buy the building. If I don’t, I’ll have to find homes for most of these dogs.”
“You’ll be able to buy it,” he said. “I believe in you one hundred percent. Before you know it, you’ll have that new shelter dog.”
As his kids played with the dogs, he swore he could see the stress fleeing from them. He twined his hand in Macie’s and brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you for doing this. It really means a lot to me.”
“It’s a great idea—I’m glad you thought of it. I think I might add it to what we do at Paws and Relax. The
re might be other teachers who have students in just as much need. And look at how much the dogs are loving it! And look how adorable Piper is looking with those bows.”
A few students were tossing a ball to Lola and Zeus, and Cookie was sitting right on Kyle’s shoulder, looking like she was wondering if she might want to climb right on top of his head.
“We should talk about that kiss.”
“It was a great kiss,” Macie said. “I give it a solid ten out of ten.”
Aaron laughed. “You know that wasn’t what I meant.” He searched her face, trying to see if he could find any answers to his unasked questions. All kinds of emotions flitted across her face, but he couldn’t figure them out. He needed words. “For you, was it just something to help convince your family?”
Oof! He exhaled as one of the balls hit him in the stomach.
“Sorry, Mr. H!” Cory called out. “My bad!”
He picked up the ball and threw it back to Cory, and then his eyes went back to Macie’s. She searched his face, too, and then whispered, “No.”
His face split into a grin. “So it meant something more?”
“I’ve got it!” Bethany called out, and from the corner of his eye, Aaron saw her race across the floor on her hands and knees toward a ball, before he heard a thud.
He jerked forward right as Bethany yelped and backed away from a desk, her hands flying to her nose. It started bleeding almost immediately. Aaron grabbed five or six tissues from the box and rushed to her. “Kyle, get on the classroom phone and let the front office know that I’m bringing Bethany down and that she’s going to need the nurse.”
He made eye contact with Macie and she said, “You go. I’ve got this.”
Once he got Bethany in with the nurse, he called the phone numbers on record for her parents to explain what happened and to see if they could pick up their daughter. They were both in meetings, but he eventually got her older brother who had just come home from college for Christmas. Aaron stood in the door opening and asked the nurse, “What do you think?”
